


Dead Weight

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-05-25
Updated: 2012-05-25
Packaged: 2017-11-06 00:25:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/412693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which four teenage lab rats try not to die (and accidentally become their city's saviors in the process).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dead Weight

**Author's Note:**

> ...and a fic writer tries to resist the urge to quote Spider-Man.

i.

The first time Jade teleports, it makes her sick.

It's a strange sensation; she's in one place, then another. In between, she's reduced to nothing, like her body has come apart at the atomic level. When it comes back together, she can't keep her footing – she lurches forward and vomits on the floor, and men and women in lab coats applaud.

That hardly seems appropriate.

She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. One of the staff offers her a hand, and she takes it, rising shakily to her feet. The man claps her on the shoulder and grins. "Amazing," he says. "I really didn't think it was possible. Congratulations."

Jade smiles weakly – it seems polite – but she is hardly able to hold the expression. She flexes her fingers, bends her elbows. Someone checks her vitals. Before long, they're asking her if she's ready to do it again.

She isn't, but it's not really a question.

The second time Jade teleports, she passes out.

ii.

It's not fair, John thinks, that they gave him the ability to fly but never let him.

It's important for the facility to keep a low profile. Can't have kids flying around the city or people will get nosy. John knows this, he _knows_ , but it still doesn't seem fair. Ever since he felt the way the wind bent to accommodate him, the way the air flowed to lift him, standing on solid ground just seems wrong.

He shouldn't be able to fly – it's just not aerodynamically possible – but it doesn't matter, because he can.

Flying isn't the only ability they gave him. It's mostly a by-product of his wind control, which is kind of a fun power anyway. At least it never takes him very long to dry his hair.

Still, nothing beats flying.

They don't even let him fly in the courtyard anymore. They think he'll go too high, someone will see. He tries to tell them he knows what he's doing, he won't fly past the roof, he'll be careful, he promises! But they don't care.

So he sits cross-legged on the grass, chasing girls with dust devils.

iii.

They don't teach Dave to fight, but he learns.

There's no real reason. He isn't sure what the facility's staff plans to do with him or any of the others, but if it involved combat they'd surely have been trained officially. Dave doesn't harbor any delusions of escape – he could take some of the scientists, sure, but he'd never fight his way through everyone in the complex.

So he doesn't know why he teaches himself to fight, it just seems like a good idea.

He finds others who want to learn, and they learn together. They fight with fists and feet, and when they tire of that, they fight with broken broom handles. None of them has any skill, and it is a clumsy mess at first. But Dave finds it comes naturally, the rhythm of it, and maybe it's enhanced by the experiments a little.

The others get bored. They see no point. After a while, it's just Dave, left swinging at anything soft enough to not break his bones. Sometimes he swings at things that aren't.

Dave doesn't care.

That's not what they want from him. Nurses _tsk_ at his bruised knuckles, tell him to at least be kind to the furniture. Still, no one stops him. As long as they get results, they don't seem to care what he does in his free time.

And they get results.

In a harshly-lit room, there are ten pairs of eyes on Dave, and he's not bothered. Time flows through him, natural and smooth, not in arbitrary pieces – seconds, minutes. He slows it to a crawl, stops it completely.

(He knows, of course, he isn't changing really time – just his own perception of it – but sometimes the facts slip his mind. Sometimes he feels like a god.)

Dave walks until he's standing nearly nose-to-nose with one of the scientists and returns to real-time. The old man jumps ten feet in the air, almost falls on his ass. Everyone else is laughing or clapping or both. Someone asks, "Did you get that on camera? Tell me you got that."

They made him the way he is, but Dave knows they need him.

iv.

"She's not even trying."

Rose looks at the whispering woman out of the corner of her eye. Does the researcher think her lab rat can't hear her?

The woman's tone changes when she speaks up. "Rose, dear, it's alright if you can't do it. We'll try another day."

Rose scoffs. "This is all very abstract, Doctor. I'm sure I would provide much better results if I knew what you wanted me to do."

"We've been working with your mind's natural creative force–" Rose knows this. They have told her this a thousand times. It means practically nothing. "At this point, you should be able to create some kind of energy. Project it. Fire. Lightning. A slight glow, whatever. Anything is better than nothing."

The researcher's voice betrays her exasperation. She truly has no idea what to expect, but then again, neither does Rose. She's done the exercises. Let them mess with her mind, mentally and physically. But no one can give her a straight answer on what it is they hope to accomplish with this particular experiment.

What they want from her is magic.

"Dr. Robbins suggested–"

"I _know_ what that simpleton suggested, and it makes no sense. I see no reason to–"

"Well, considering we aren't getting anywhere with our own tactics..."

"Hmph."

After a few moments' silence, the researcher's assistant steps close to Rose and presses something into her hand. It looks like a knitting needle, cool to the touch.

The researcher sighs, then says, "It has been suggested that you might be able to use an object like this as a sort of focus for your energy. See if it helps."

Rose squeezes it in her fist – a magic wand, she thinks, and smiles a little at the thought. The weight of it is comforting. She rubs her thumb over it, concentrating.

She thinks of burning, and her hands are on fire.

v.

Dave, Rose, and John are in Jade's room when the facility is attacked.

The sounds of screaming and glass shattering carry through the halls, and Jade is the first person to think to barricade the door. Leaning against it, she stares wide-eyed at her friends and begins to ask, "What's going –" before being interrupted by the intercom.

"Residents of the Project Skaia Laboratories." The voice is female, but strong and authoritative. Jade thinks it sounds vaguely trollish, but she isn't sure. "The city of Ad Astra is under new leadership. The former regime left behind a legacy of abuse and corruption. The remnants of the former government's atrocities must be destroyed."

There is a pause. Most of the noise in the facility has been silenced.

Then, the voice speaks one more time. "Your Empress sends her apologies."

Jade closes her eyes, and the world crashes down around her.  

 

 

 


End file.
